


make it right.

by likeabomb



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: Closure, Grief/Mourning, M/M, Past Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-21
Updated: 2018-12-21
Packaged: 2019-09-23 22:29:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17088941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/likeabomb/pseuds/likeabomb
Summary: Charlie learns about a Legend the team lost, and makes it their mission to make things right as best they can.





	make it right.

**Author's Note:**

> I really loved the talk Charlie and Mick had and I really think if Charlie knew about Len more, who he was, and what he'd meant to Len, that they'd be appalled to know that the team did NOTHING after he died. So we're setting that straight.

“Gideon?”

Silence.

“I know you can hear me, Gideon. You hear everything.”

Charlie fiddles with their rings and bracelets as their leg bobs and shakes, leaned over themself as they shift and fidget.  
  
“Gide-”  
  
“Yes, Charlie?” Gideon answers finally and she sounds a little tired, reluctant perhaps.  
  
Charlie looks up at the ceiling, at nothing in particular, scowling a little, “Why didn’t you answer me before?”  
  
“It is not in my protocol to fraternize with fugitives. They do not typically have the sentience to communicate.”  
  
“Fraternize-” Charlie cuts themself off, “Does the crew really not see me as a person? I’m certainly no human, but that’s just disrespectful.”  
  
They scoff, standing to shake themself out, pacing a little. Heavy boots thump against the floor as they walk a figure eight, still fiddling. The anxiety is clear in the way they move, the way their heart pounds.  
  
Gideon doesn’t answer the bitter question, but does eventually speak up again, “Did you need something, Charlie?”  
  
Stopping, they flex their hands, looking around themself at the empty room. They were given a room, they’re part of the team, they suppose, but it’s still strange to think that despite that, the crew- the Legends they say- don’t see Charlie like the rest of them. They’ve helped. Their intel has been crucial more than once. They should have the same freedoms as the rest. But what do they know, they’re just some _creature_.

Charlie heaves a sigh, letting their arms fall to their sides, “Do you… know anything about Mick’s partner?”

When Charlie had been locked away in that box, it had been the most abrasive and hard member of the team that had bothered to reach out. A couple shared bottles of hooch and a talk, and Charlie had felt more _considered_ than with anyone else on the ship. Even more than the heart to heart they’d had with Ray. They owed Ray one, but it was Mick who’d attempted to find some humanity in them. 

Ray seemed too preoccupied with some lass named Nora. Not Charlie’s problem.

“Mr. Rory’s partner’s name was Leonard Snart. He was a former Legend.”

“Was?” Charlie asks, crossing their arms to turn a little. It was hard to speak to Gideon, they’d found. Disorienting. 

“Mr. Snart is deceased, Charlie.”

Their mouth goes dry with a confirmation of a thought they’d had. With how Mick had looked and sounded when talking about him, unnamed at the time, Charlie couldn’t imagine it had come from anywhere other than loss worn away by too much booze. Wonders, really. Nodding slowly, they duck their head to rub at their nose and mouth a little.   
  
“How did he die?”   
  
“He sacrificed himself on a mission to break the team, and time itself, free of the Time Masters.” Gideon explains. Something in her voice softens somewhat.

“That…” Charlie’s brow knits a little, “That sounds awful noble of a bloke who did a bunch of stints in the slammer. Why… why did he do it?”   
  
“Why did he sacrifice himself?” Gideon asks, puzzled by the question.   
  
“Yeah.”   
  
“The Oculus needed contact to detonate or the failsafe would engage.”   
  
“No,” Charlie scuffs the floor back and forth with their boot, “I mean, why him? Why not someone else?”   
  
Gideon doesn’t answer for another few moments, and Charlie almost thinks she’s done talking to them, and eventually they do answer again. “The complexities and circumstances of sacrifice from any one individual are difficult to accurately define.”   
  
“That’s a whole lot of bullshit. English this time, love.” Charlie scowls at nothing. They still feel weird talking to nothing and no one but air.   
  
“The events that transpired for the circumstances to be what they were were complicated. Mr. Rory spent time brainwashed. Mr. Snart betrayed Mr. Rory after being betrayed first. The two of them had the most history of anyone Captain Hunter recruited.”   
  
“Captain Hunter? What happened to Captain Lance?”   
  
There’s a sound, almost akin to a sigh, and Gideon goes quiet again. Charlie sits back down and leans back on their hands to listen because they’re sure it’s going to be one hell of a story.   
  
“Captain Hunter recruited the Legends to repair history, and Mr. Snart and Mr. Rory came aboard the Waverider together. They were criminals in Central City in the early 21st century, coined Captain Cold and Heat Wave by a hero of the time.”   
  
One of the panels on the wall flickers to life, a panel Charlie didn’t even know could do that. A series of newspaper articles and headlines and photos slides while Gideon talks. It is all pictures of the two of them. Some mugshots, some action packed. But almost all together. Sometimes in uniform. Charlie notes that Leonard is quite handsome. They can respect a statement piece like a parka.

“Mick mentioned, yeah. Said they had each other’s backs in supermax. Said they ran heists and all that. Didn’t mention being supervillains.”   
  
“Correct. Mr. Rory and Mr. Snart knew each other for multiple decades before they were recruited onto the team. I do not think they were supervillains. They very rarely hurt people after they met The Flash. I speculate it was simply fun for them.”

Gideon tells Charlie of the adventures. Vandal Savage and the havok he wrought. The Hawks and Firestorm. The hell the Time Masters brought down on Mick when they took him to the Vanishing Point. Gideon even told them about the Oculus in more detail, and about Mick’s willingness to die for revenge, and Len’s sacrifice. Gideon doesn’t get a chance to talk about the Legion of Doom before Charlie speaks up a little, a small smile along their lips looking at all the pictures.   
  
“Were they… you know.”   
  
“Mr. Snart and Mr. Rory were married, yes.”   
  
“Married?” They ask, stopping short to glance at the screen again. “I just wanted to know if they were bumping uglies- they were _married_?”   
  
“Correct.”   
  
A chill runs down their spine looking at a picture of the two of them standing almost back to back and looking triumphant with matching smirks. The can’t match the look knowing that one of the two of them is dead and the other… They’ve never been one for much romance, but they know it’s important to humans. The loss of someone so important claws at them, deep like an old wound. They feel the heat of it rising in their face and burning behind their eyes.   
  
Charlie speaks up a little, voice a little softer. “Did they do what they should for… him dying?”

“I do not understand.”

“A funeral. A send off. He sounded like a badass. They gave him one hell of a party, right?”

Gideon is quiet again, and Charlie is starting to learn this means Gideon is trying to form an answer. It’s funny that they consider Gideon more sentient and more of a person than Charlie, but they’ve already seen she goes unthanked or unmentioned more often than not. It’s kind of shitty, but these guys aren’t great all around. Not the worst. But definitely a whole slew of dickheads.

“No.”   
  
Charlie looks up, face twisted in confusion and a hot lash of anger, “No? Why the bloody hell not?”   
  
“I do not know, Charlie.”

“Why don’t you know?!” They ask, standing up, that confusion fully eaten away by the anger rushing through them. “He was your teammate. What happened to him?”   
  
“He died. There was no funeral. Mr. Rory took time to inform Mr. Snart’s younger sister before returning to business. Things were still quite chaotic for a time after his death in their mission to hunt down Vandal Savage.”   
  
“You mean to tell me, that a fire lovin’ bloke like Rory, he didn’t have some kind of viking’s funeral or something?” Charlie grinds out, half in disbelief and half in disgust.   
  
“Mr. Snart was not a viking-”   
  
“No shit!” They scoff and shake their head, falling back into their pacing. They feel like their back in the cage again. “Nothing happened. Everyone just forgot. Pretended things were fine?”   
  
“I suppose you could draw that conclusion, yes.”   
  
“Humans…” Charlie closes their eyes, shaking their head.   
  
Before they really think about what they’re doing or what might come of it, they’ve shifted into a guise of Leonard Snart. They have a different walk, a different demeanor, a different way of holding themself than Len, but they look indistinguishable from the former Legend.

The heavy boots are at least familiar against the metal floor of the ship.  
  
The side of their fist bounds against the doors as they hit every room to get attention on their way to the bridge. Once on the bridge, they lean back, arms crossed over their chest to wait for each member to arrive. Len’s face looks strange in such a scowl.  
  
It’s Ray first, chipper and happy, words on his lips that fall as soon as he sees who is standing at the console in the middle of the bridge, “If we’ve got a hit on the magic-o-meter, you could call it on the-” He stares for a moment, his stride coming to a stop, “Leonard?”  
  
Charlie doesn’t answer, staring him down.  
  
Zari peeks in as she rounds the corner and it takes a few moments and a look towards Ray who looks like he might be shaking a little, “L-Leo? You’re- You’re Leo Snart.”  
  
She too is met with silence.  
  
“Leo? I thought this was Len,” Ray asks, looking between Zari and Charlie again. Something hits him and he shift a little, “I… I guess it’d have to be Leo, wouldn’t it?”  
  
Sara stops before she makes it fully into the bridge and her voice shakes a little, “Alright, which Earth are you from?” She seems unsettled. Wary.  
  
Charlie shakes their head slowly, staring Sara down.  
  
“Alright, what’s going o-” Sara starts, and cuts herself short at the sight of Mick standing across the room staring at Len and only Len.  
  
Turning, Charlie looks at Mick the same way, arms finally coming down from where they were folded.  
  
“You’re not Snart,” Mick accuses with a snarl. “What gives?”  
  
Their patience is up and Charlie looks at all of them in turn as John steps into the room last, “What give? What _gives_ , is that you disrespectful lot should feel sorry for yourselves!”  
  
The voice is Len’s but the accent is all wrong. It’s definitely Charlie, now that they can all hear the offkilter way of talking. It only serves to make everyone’s shoulders rise defensively.  
  
“You didn’t do _anything_ for him? Anything at all? No funeral, no send off, no party- you didn’t even crack one open, did you?”  
  
Mick just growls gently, “Stop wearin’ his face.”  
  
“No! Not until you tell me why!” Charlie demands, baring their teeth at the Legends. It’s such an unsettling thing to see when they look _so much_ like Len.

“Did you forget? Did you even care? Were you too _busy_? You're bloody _time travelers_. All you've  _got_ is time.”   
  
“Stop!” Sara interjects suddenly.   
  
Ray hasn’t said anything, guilt clear on his face. Zari looks uncomfortable, arms wrapped around her middle. Even John has resigned to watching in another direction from this whole fiasco. He’s not involved. Sara and Mick stare Charlie down though, anger and a deep seeded sadness clear in both of their eyes, even as they try to hide behind their walls.   
  
Softer, Charlie asks, “Did you have any plans to do him right?”   
  
“Why do you care?” Mick snarls, stepping up to grab the front of Len’s coat, and this close, Charlie can see the hurt, the loss, the longing, feel the shake of his hands, of his quaking breath. “It’s none of your damn business. Snart had nothin’ to do with you, so why do you care?”   
  
“Charlie, we… we had every intention of-”   
  
Wrapping hands around Mick’s wrists in their coat, Charlie looks at Sara first, “Don’t you lie to me! Gideon told me everything. About Savage. About the Time Masters. About Captian _bloody_ Hunter- he’s dead too, did you give _him_  a good send off?”   
  
Ray won’t stop staring at the floor and Zari has closed in on herself even more. John has a cigarette to his lips but he lingers like he isn’t sure if he should interject or leave. He looks guilty too and Charlie wonders if John knew Len at all. They think he just looks guilty. He always looks guilty, just under the surface. They’d know about hiding things, and he’s not as good at it as he thinks.

“You worked side by side with these people!” Charlie tugs at their coat- Snart’s coat- “You fought with them, and they _died for you_! And you don’t even have the _decency_ to remember their sacrifice?!”

Nobody says anything and Charlie scoffs, shaking their head, “You humans are all the same. As soon as someone or some _thing_ doesn’t affect you anymore, it doesn’t matter.”  
  
“Charlie!” Sara snaps, “You weren’t there, we didn’t have the time to dwell, there was too much happening!”  
  
Mick speaks up quietly, a bitterness like a spike off every word, “Axl had a funeral during your Death Totem bullshit.”  
  
Sara stares, and if possible, Ray looks even more guilty than he had before.  
  
Their voice grows soft at first, shaking a little. “There was always time. You lot don’t have a damn excuse. Captain Hunter didn’t have anyone left, just you, and Gideon said Len had a sister and friends in Central. And you didn’t do anything for either of them.” And then louder, angrier, pointing the fingers that definitely need to be pointed, “You did more for a bloody _rat_ than your _friends_.” 

They’re shaking where they stand as they stare down everyone who’s done wrong.

“Have _any_ of you… done _anything_ …. for your lost loved ones?”  
  
They all stare at Charlie and slowly, they shift back into themself. Or a least into Amaya, thanks to John’s tampering. But they’re not quite Amaya now. They have enough power over who they are to change enough that it’s not quite spot on.  
  
“Did you do anything for your sister, Sara? Or you Zari, for your family? Ray, your fiance? And John, I’ve personally seen your loss and what it did to the whole universe. Have any of you done anything for the people you loved and for your damn _selves_ , or have you all just _festered_  on the grief?”

Nobody says anything for a long moment before Ray speaks up quietly, shaking his head, “No. I don’t think we have.”   
  
“Getting slapped in the face with it like this isn’t exactly the best way to handle it, either,” Zari grumbles quietly, but there’s tears in her eyes.   
  
“But it can be handled now,” Sara interjects, voice a little softer. She sets a hand on Zari’s shoulder, looking at Charlie. It takes her a moment to collect herself, “I never did anything for my sister. She encouraged me to come here, to the Waverider. She told me to be a hero, in the light…”   
  
Drawing a shaking breath, Sara tries to fight the way the tears threaten to spill over. “She… she died while I was here. While I was helping Captain Hunter and the Legends. He only told me after, and some story about how I couldn’t go back to help her because ‘time wants to happen’. His loss was always more important than ours. So I just never dealt with it. And… you’re right- I hate that you’re right- but you are. We haven’t dealt with any of this.”

Zari’s hand settles on Sara’s and she eases in when Sara pulls her into a hug. They both lost people and had so much hope they could change history. No loopholes could help them and neither of them had come to terms with that. She cards her hand through Zari’s hair slowly, cheek pressed against her forehead.   
  
“I might have let her killer go back into time _to_ kill her because I’ve seen what changing things does to the universe. I can’t save her. And I think… out of all of us… I’m the one who’s had the most chance to come to terms with that. But in general, no. I don’t think we’ve done anything.”   
  
“I uh,” Ray tries, but his voice is thick with tears. He purses his lips, clearing his throat, “I watched Slade Wilson kill Anna. My fiance. He broke her neck. Like it was nothing.”   
  
“And what did you do for her?” Charlie asks gently, brows knit to look him over.   
  
“She had a funeral. I didn’t attend. I… was in the lab. Working on the suit. I needed to make sure no one could get hurt again because I couldn’t protect them.”   
  
“Ray, you didn’t even attend your _fiance’s_ funeral?” Charlie presses gently.   
  
Mouth clearly dry, he shakes his head, lifting a hand to rub at his eyes. He doesn’t say anything else.   
  
“And you, Mick,” Charlie starts, but when they turn to look at him, they stop. He looks heartbroken. He looks hollowed out. There’s tired bruises under his eyes and his jaw looks tight enough he might break his teeth. He hasn’t moved since he backed off from grabbing their jacket. It’s a struggle for Charlie to find voice enough to accuse him too, “Why didn’t you do anything for Snart?”   
  
“Told Lisa,” Mick growls out. It’s thick, and not much past a whisper.   
  
“But what did you do for _you_ , Mick?”   
  
His eyes get glassy and his nostrils flare, but he doesn’t move.

“Snart wouldn’t leave me the fuck alone _to_ do anything!” Mick snarls, an anger trying desperately to eat away the sadness filling him up.   
  
The others look on, unsure and a little confused.   
  
“First it was alliteration! Altercations!” He struggles to find the words, frustration making his shoulders shake.   
  
“Hallucinations?” Ray breathes, watching him.   
  
“He was all in my head,” Mick focuses on Charlie, on the person who’d taken his husband’s face. “And then! He was real! And he was- he wasn’t him. He was working for them. Snart doesn’t work for nobody but him! For us. We were a team. He killed Amaya. Called me stupid. He wasn’t Snart.”   
  
Sara and Ray shrink a little. They remember Doomworld too.   
  
“And then! There was _Leo_. He wasn’t Snart either! He was touchy and feelsy and flowery as shit. He was a _hero_. Snart wasn’t a hero. He was a thief and a con man and a _fox_.”   
  
Mick says hero and not anything about good and bad. Snart was a good man. They all know it. Even those who didn’t know him. They know Mick is a good man too.

“And now-” Mick cuts himself off, shaking now as he turns to one of the consoles and yells, a primal and hurt sound, like some animal, and swipes everything off it onto the floor. It’s enough suddenly to startle everyone.  
  
He looks back at Charlie, pointing a gloved finger as he advances on them, “You. And now _you_  run around wearing his face.” He gets close enough that Charlie can feel the way he’s shaking. “Snart’s dead, and I’m not gonna put him to rest because he’s not gonna stop haunting me. It shoulda been me, and he’s not gonna rest cuz it wasn’t. S’that what you wanna hear?”

Charlie stares up at him, shaking now too. This whole situation has been too emotionally charged. They aren’t sure what they were thinking- they weren’t thinking. They were just angry at the injustice. And just how sick humans could be to each other, and just how unfair it was to those who had died to be treated like this. And maybe all of this helped some of them start to realize they need to face it. But the look in Mick’s eyes…

“I’m sorry Mick,” they speak softly, and they reach with gentle hands to hold his arms, “But it wasn’t your fault. Hi-his death… _isn’t_ your fault.”   
  
Mick snarls but doesn’t jerk away even though his quaking shoulders tell a different want.   
  
“He sacrificed himself, and Gideon said that sacrifices are complicated and circumstantial and a lot of bullshit like that, but… Snart was a good man. A fox. A con man. A _damn_ good thief. I didn’t know him, but he was good. At what he did, and just… good. And that goodness- he made sure his crew got out. That they could do more heists on history. That they could score all the loot.” Charlie puts it in ways they hope will help Mick compartmentalize all of this. “But his choice… that was never your fault.”   
  
His chest heaves and he grips their arms in return, their biceps held like an anchor. “But it shoulda been me. I was gonna take the Time Pigs out for what they did to me- _lifetimes_ they took from me, and that selfish bastard, he took that glory and that _inferno_  and-”   
  
Charlie reaches and eases their arms around Mick and he goes with it. It’s stiff and he’s uncomfortable. But he goes with it. Charlie hugs him close, holding him close, and Mick shakes. He will always deny that he cried. He’s not a crier. It’s allergies. Or something in his eye. He’s not a baby.   
  
He blames himself, feels responsible, and most of all, feels he should have been the one to die, not Len. That can’t be fixed overnight, but at the very least addressing the loss Mick suffered will at least show him a road to recovery that he’s capable of. And a team that had better shape the fuck up and help him- and each other- with their problems.   
  
But the weight on the chest of the widower lifts, if only just a little, the weight helped along by hands, malleable but strong. Trust starts there, in Charlie, and in Mick. It’s unconventional, but it’s strong, just like the both of them.   
  
They hold a procession and ceremony for their lost loves the next day. Sara’s sister. Ray’s fiance. Zari’s parents and brother. John’s lover. And Mick’s husband.   
  
And for the first time in years, they can breathe.


End file.
